


When We Meet At Orion's Belt

by couldneverhurtusnow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, I imagine that most of the things they went through during s1-s3, I just wanted to explore them as a couple, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham is a Cannibal, after being on the most wanted list y'know, and perhaps in a different country, and that then they'd go and work for the fbi, and to write a fic where they can just be cute together, basically they still do what they do, because I lack the ability to wax poetic, because it wouldn't make any sense if it all happened in the us, however obviously not with their current colleagues, is part of their backstory here as well, like these characters do, maybe I'll make references to their shared past at one point, or investigations, so this isn't going to be a super dark fic, there's just not going to be that much emphasis on murder, this could be a bit ooc, will gets in serial killers' minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29894340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldneverhurtusnow/pseuds/couldneverhurtusnow
Summary: Many people don't know that Will Graham (or Will Graham Lecter) & Hannibal Lecter have been living a life of domestic bliss for over ten years and have been married for nine years.Will & Hannibal don't have any ulterior motives, there's no plan to bring down the FBI or anything along those lines. They are happily married, but like to be a bit mysterious and "sneak around". Just snippets from their life, from multiple POVs.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 184





	When We Meet At Orion's Belt

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, what this fic will be is just snippets from their life. So, in that sense there isn't really a plot here. I just wanted to imagine them being cute together. With some little arguments here and there, haha.
> 
> I just recently got back into writing (wrote something a couple of days ago), it's been literal years, so I'm a bit rusty, my sentences might not flow as effortlessly as they should, but I'll get there. 
> 
> PS! I do speak English on a daily-basis, however, it's still my second language, and therefore I might make some grammatical mistakes. I apologize for those!

Will is brushing his teeth when Hannibal joins him in the bathroom, stopping right behind Will. Chest to back. The soft material of Hannibal’s gray t-shirt brushes Wills bare back.  
  
Hannibal lifts his hand over Will’s right shoulder, and with his index finger taps Will’s toothbrush and tuts. Will just rolls his eyes — two years ago Hannibal bought Will an electronic toothbrush, which Will hasn’t even removed from the box yet. He just flat out refuses to brush his teeth with something that’s battery operated. What’s wrong with a good old trusty toothbrush? _“An electronic toothbrush is more effective at removing plaque,”_ is what Hannibal likes to tell him whenever the debate on toothbrushes arises. Well, Will’s toothbrush removes enough plaque from his teeth, and his dental hygienist can take care of the rest.  
  
Will rinses his mouth and spits in to the sink. Dumping his toothbrush in the crystal glass that Hannibal purchased just to hold toothbrushes and toothpaste. Will almost moved out when he saw the price tag — that’s one expensive toothbrush holder. Before moving in with Hannibal, Will used to keep his toothbrush and toothpaste in an old jam jar, and it served its purpose perfectly.  
  
Hannibal slides his hands over Will’s shoulders and gives a light squeeze to his upper arms. Causing Will to feel all warm inside. After having been together for more than ten years, Hannibal still manages to make him feel like this — giddy and warm. Sometimes he almost giggles like a teenage girl with a crush, but _usually_ manages to stop himself.  
  
Hannibal fingers the long gold chain around Will’s neck. Will doesn’t wear his wedding ring when his around his coworkers. People often assume that him wearing his wedding ring is an invitation to pry into his private life. And Will can do without all the questions -- "When/How did you meet?", "How long have you been married?", "For how long did you date before tying the knot?", "When will you have kids?". Or the slightly ignorant ones: "So... who's the man and who's the woman in your relationship?" and "How does _that_ really work and feel like?". And then there are people who think just because Will is married it must mean that he wants to hear about other people's relationships, give out relationship advice, and go on double-dates. It's not that Will is embarrassed being known as Hannibal's husband or that he's ashamed of who he is, far from it. He just finds small talk torturous; and the less people know about him, the better. However, he still likes to keep his ring close to him, which is why he wears it on a chain.  
  
Hannibal unclasps the necklace, once it’s safely in his hands, he removes the ring and places the chain next to the sink.  
  
Will’s wedding ring now between Hannibal’s index finger and thumb. They move to face each other. “May I?” Hannibal asks, holding Will’s left hand in his.  
  
The younger man can’t help but roll his eyes in fond exasperation. “I swear you’re such a goddamn dork at times.”  
  
“I am romantic.” Hannibal replies happily whilst sliding the ring on to Will’s ring finger. Not letting go of Will’s hand he guides it close to his mouth and touches his lips to the ring, giving it a little kiss. They gaze into each other’s eyes with small but affectionate smiles.  
  
Will places his hands on Hannibal’s chest and whispers, “You sure are.” And softly pecks him on the lips. He pats Hannibal’s chest, “Let’s go to bed.”  
  
Hannibal places his hand on Will’s left cheek and presses his lips to Will’s forehead. “You go ahead, I’ll join you in a little bit. I’m going to have a quick shower.” Will gives the hand on his cheek a little squeeze and smiles up at Hannibal.  
  
“Alrighty.” Will keeps a hold on Hannibal’s hand, while Hannibal removes it from Will’s cheek. They interlace their fingers once their joined hands are hanging by their side. They grin at each other like two lovesick fools for what feels like minutes. Will finally lets go of Hannibal’s hand. “Okay, god! This is getting out of hand! Go shower,” he laughs.  
  
Hannibal doesn’t say anything, just gives Will a soft lopsided smile and turns towards the shower, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he walks the short distance between the sink and the shower.  
  
If anyone were ever to witness them like this — being so… _soft_ with each other — Will would literally murder that person. This side of him is for Hannibal only. And vice-versa.  
  
Even to this day, after having been together for years, Will still sometimes feels like pinching himself, he can’t believe that after everything they had to go through — all the pain (both mental and physical), twisted deadly games, manipulation and lies, and mutual betrayals — they can be this way with each other. That they were able to learn from their unhealthy past and by constantly communicating with each other they managed to build a relationship that is healthy. Which isn’t to say that they don’t bicker or have disagreements like any other couple, but they put in the effort to work through those arguments and differences. At the end of the day, they are a team, it’s not Will vs. Hannibal, it’s Will & Hannibal vs. the world.  
  
Will stops in the doorway, hand on the doorframe, and looks over his shoulder at Hannibal who’s currently washing his hair. “Hey, Hannibal?” He calls over the running shower.  
  
Hannibal stops massaging his scalp, fingers stilled in his hair, he turns to look at Will through the glass door, “Yes, my dear?"  
  
Will smiles, “I love you.” He walks out of the en suite.  
  


* * *

  
Lydia Davis is sitting at the lunch table she usually shares with Jimmy Price, Brian Zeller, and Beverly Katz. Around them the cafeteria is filled with low voices, everyone immersed in their own conversations. She’s pretty sure she hears someone mention the Chesapeake Ripper’s latest murder. Lydia isn’t involved in that case, but she saw the crime scene photos when Beverly was studying them earlier for more clues. The unidentified victim had been posed like the patient in Rembrandt’s _The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Deijman_ — brain exposed and a huge hole in his stomach, with organs missing, obviously.  
  
Beverly and Price are already eating their lunch, when Zeller pulls out a chair, having just come back from microwaving his food. He takes a seat placing a styrofoam cup of instant noodles on the table. Once he’s made himself comfortable he uses a fork to stir the hot noodles while blowing on them, trying to cool them down a bit.  
  
“I swear I saw the cutest married couple yesterday, while walking my dog, Bowie,” Lydia says while unpacking her lunch — a bottle of water, a salad she threw together with some greens that are crazy close to their expiration date, and a dairy free coconut milk strawberry yogurt.  
  
“Yeah? And what made them so cute?” Asks Zeller while chewing on his noodles. He makes a face, they still must be too hot.  
  
Lydia knows that Zeller doesn’t really care, but she answers anyway, “I saw them in the park that’s right across the road from Thalia’s Cafe,” she says while uncorking her water bottle. “They had spread out a blanket on the grass underneath one of the big oaks. And they were laying on the blanket. The smaller one had his head on the other guy’s chest, legs intertwined, and they were reading a book together, both holding it up on the taller one’s belly. It was adorable.” She takes a sip of water.  
  
“That is kind of cute.” Beverly agrees while trying to stab a grape tomato with her fork. She lets out an annoyed sigh when she stabsthe tomato a little too hard and it bounces out of the bowl, ending up in the middle of the table.  
  
“Actually, the reason I’m bringing this up is — I swear it was Will Graham and Dr. Hannibal Lecter.” She's looking at her lunch companions trying to gauge their reaction.  
  
The other three almost burst into amused laughter at the implication.  
  
Price raises an eyebrow while looking at Lydia. “Didn’t you say they seemed to be married?”  
  
“They were both wearing rings on their ring finger.”  
  
“Well, we know that Will isn’t married. I doubt he’s even seeing anyone currently. What with him being literally the most antisocial standoffish person to walk this planet. And Lecter is probably married to some fancy-pansy posh European lady or guy, I don't know, and I'm not judging either. Anyway, someone whose breakfast consists of caviar and champagne, and bathes in the fountain of youth or something equally bizarre.” Zeller chuckles. “We all know the guy is loaded, and usually when someone has a shit ton of money they tend to be eccentric. Therefore, the partner must be an odd one too.”  
  
“Perhaps just lookalikes then. But what are the odds?” Lydia laughs good-humoredly. However, as far-fetched as it sounds, she knows what she saw yesterday. It was definitely Will Graham and Dr. Hannibal Lecter. She doesn't really understand how her friends aren’t even willing to entertain the idea. It's not like any of them really know the two men on a personal level. Beverly perhaps is the closest to Will, however, Lydia has overheard their conversations on multiple occasions, and it’s usually Beverly talking about her personal life and Will does engage with her, but he never brings his private life into their talks. All they know about the empath is that he’s obsessed with fishing and loves his dogs. And even though Hannibal is really not part of their social circle, everyone knows that he’s basically unmatched in the kitchen. The man would probably be awarded a Michelin Star were he ever to run a restaurant. But that's where their knowledge on their personal life ends.  
  
She decides not to try to convince her friends, they’lleventually find out on their own. Probably.  
  
Beverly decides to change the topic as there’s nothing else to add. “Has anyone already watched that new Netflix show on murder in the Mormon community? I want to discuss it with you guys.”

— —

“Did you really end up referencing a painting of surgery being performed? Aren’t you getting a bit too cocky? What's next? A cooking reference?” Will asks incredulous.  
  
Hannibal doesn't react. “When inspiration strikes.” He replies, voice casual.  
  
Will is getting a bit agitated with his carelessness. “Must I accompany you to every single hunt to make sure you don't tip the FBI off?”  
  
“While I do love us bonding over our mutual hobbies, Will, I assure you they will never connect the dots.”  
  
"Hobby? I thought you think of it as a vocation?" They've definitely talked about this before, and it's way more than just a "hobby" for Hannibal, for them.  
  
"Beside the point, dear."  
  
“You fit the profile, _darling_.” Will says sneering. “You might as well walk around town with a sign around your neck saying, ‘it’s me, The Chesapeake Ripper.’ Were they ever to look into your background, for whatever reason, I don’t think it would take them too long to reach their ‘aha moment’.”  
  
“You’re their best profiler. Without your help, they’ll never come to that conclusion. And I really doubt you’d be too willing to direct them in the right direction. Unless, you're secretly trying to get rid of me. Are you looking to divorce me?”  
  
Will ignores that last part, Hannibal and his jokes. “I might be their best profiler, but that doesn’t mean that the others are complete idiots either.”  
  
“As I already told you, I don’t have much faith in the FBI figuring out my identity; however, I’ll try to be less obvious next time, if it makes you happy.”  
  
“Yes, it does. Thank you.” Will replies curtly.  
  


* * *

  
Lightning momentary alights the gray sky behind their kitchen window, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. In the foyer the front door is slammed shut with a loud bang. Hannibal places his unfinished cup of coffee down on the kitchen island. And heads towards the sound.  
  
Will is standing by the front door, soaking wet, rain water dripping on to the floor, forming an actual puddle at his feet. Hannibal wishes he could bundle him up in thick blankets, sit him down in front of the fireplace, shove a cup of hot cocoa in his hands, and then wrap himself around the man as well. But that must wait, because Will should be at work right now. His spouse had walked out of the door fifteen minutes ago, headed to work. Will's lecture at the FBI Academy is supposed to begin in ten minutes.  
  
Hannibal decides to find out why Will currently looks like he took a dive in the Chesapeake Bay.“I —“ He starts, but gets immediately cut off with a murderous stare.  
  
“Shut it."  
  
Hannibal tries again, “What happened, dear?” He asks taking a step towards his husband.  
  
Will exhales loudly. "My fucking car won't start.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, rubbing his upper arms with his hands, he must be getting cold in his wet clothes.  
  
But Hannibal can’t let the subject drop now. He’s been trying to convince Will (for two years now) that it's time to dump his Volvo at the junkyard and invest in a new ride. This is the perfect example as to why Will should take Hannibal’s advice. “Have you been trying to start your car for the past fifteen minutes? I wish you would listen to me and purchase a new --"  
  
“No." Will cuts him off, teeth chattering. “I have to be at work in a couple of minutes. I’m going to call an Uber and get changed while they get here." He says taking the stairs and fishing his mobile phone out of the back pocket of his black pants. Seems like his phone is still working, having been protected from the rain by multiple layers of clothing, as Will starts quickly sliding and tapping away on his phone. Hannibal follows him up the stairs.  
  
“Take my car.”  
  
At the suggestion Will abruptly stops on the stairs, causing Hannibal to walk in to his back. Hannibal is thrown off balance and has to grab onto Will's hips to steady himself. Will glares at him over his shoulder. “I will not roll up to the Academy in a fucking Bentley.” He starts walking again. Not wanting to let go of Will, Hannibal follows close behind, adjusting his hold on Will’s hips.  
  
"You'd rather drive in a complete stranger’s dirty car than take mine?” Hannibal questions, exasperated.  
  
“Yup." Comes the quick reply. They reach the walk-in closet. Hannibal lets go of Will and leans against the doorway, watching as Will peels of his wet clothes and throws them on the floor. If they weren't having this argument right now, Hannibal would be picking up after Will. But since he's trying to come out as the winner here, he's doing his best to ignore the part of him that’s shuddering at the sight of wet clothes on the hardwood floor, and is yelling at him to “CLEAN UP THE MESS RIGHT AT THIS MOMENT!!!”  
  
Will is pulling a moss green (oh, how much Hannibal adores to see him in that color) wool sweater over his head, when Hannibal speaks again. “Cancel the Uber, I'll give you a ride.”  
  
“That would be rude. Some poor guy is out there, driving in this rain." Will says tousling his curls, trying to get them to dry faster.  
  
“Will, frankly I couldn’t be any less interested in how some fool will react to you cancelling on them. Cancel it. Finish getting dressed, I'll go and make you a thermos of coffee. Did you inform someone that you'll arrive late today?"  
  
Will looks sheepish for a second. “I’ll do that right now.”  
  
— —  
  
Hannibal is screwing the lid on the thermos, when Will joins him in the kitchen, wearing something that looks suspiciously like one of Hannibal's many coats. Not that Hannibal minds, he thoroughly loves seeing his partner in his clothes.  
  
He hands the thermos to Will and then goes to walk past him to the foyer, to grab a coat and put on his shoes, but Will's hand on his arm stops him. “Thank you for the coffee, Hannibal.” He tightens his hold on Hannibal's arm a little. “I promise I'll consider the car thing.”  
  
Hannibal is elated at Will finally saying that he'd even consider buying a new car. Small steps and small wins. Hannibal bundles Will up in his arms, hides his face in the crook between Will’s neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss there. Will hugs him back.  
  
— —  
  
When they finally pull up in front of the Academy, Will is running twenty minutes behind schedule. Once the Bentley has come to a stop, Will immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and goes to open the door.  
  
Hannibal clears his throat. “Where do you think you’re going?" He asks with a light tone of playfulness in his voice.  
  
Will raises an eyebrow. “To work?”  
  
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”  
  
Will sighs, but acquiesces anyway. He leans over the center console and gives Hannibal a quick kiss on the lips. However, Hannibal has other plans. He grabs Will’s cheeks and deepens the kiss, they end up getting lost in it. After what feels like minutes later, Will reluctantly stops the make out session. He doesn’t pull too far away from Hannibal, though. Foreheads pressed together, Will whispers, "You always do this.” His lips brushing against Hannibal's as he speaks.  
  
“Don't act like you hate it." Hannibal whispers right back, letting go of Will. Will is about to reply with something sarcastic when Hannibal keeps talking, voice louder this time. “My dear Will, you better get going, you’re awfully late as it is. What will your students think? What’s the saying ‘lead by example’? Tsk tsk, what kind of example will this tardiness of yours set?" He asks teasing.  
  
"Fuck you.” Will pokes him in the chest laughing. “Like you didn't know what you were doing.”Hannibal feigns innocence. “As if.” Will says looking at Hannibal. He opens the door and gets out of the car, taking the thermos with him. “Thanks for the ride, love."  
  
“You're welcome, Will."  
  


* * *

  
Will is curled up in one of the leather armchairs in the reading room, cocooned in a blanket. So lost in his book that he doesn't notice Hannibal enter the room. He startles when he sees movement in his field of vision. A finger slides up the bridge of his nose. He looks up at Hannibal, who smiles down at him, pushing up Will's reading glasses with his finger.  
  
“Oh, thanks." Will replies, voice low and raspy with disuse, he clears his throat.  
  
Hannibal removes his finger, smile never faltering. “I made you tea.” He gestures at the steaming cup of hot tea that he'd set on the side table when Will had been preoccupied with his book.  
  
Will returns his smile. "Thanks, love. Come join me?”  
  
Hannibal reaches out his hand, palm up. Will places the hand that isn't holding his book in Hannibal’s and then rises to his feet, placing the book next to his cup of tea. Without letting go of his husband’s hand, Hannibal sits down in the armchair. With his free hand Will removes the blanket from around his shoulders and hands it to Hannibal.  
  
"I'm going to have to let go. I'm really good with my hands, but even I can't get this blanket around my shoulders with just one hand.” Hannibal says looking at Will, the innuendo clear in his voice.  
  
“Will you ever shut up.” Not a question, this man loves to talk, so there's no point in actually asking. And secretly it's one of many things Will loves about Hannibal. Will lets go of Hannibal's hand and waits until Hannibal adjusts the blanket.  
  
Once Hannibal seems to be happy with the blanket, he spreads his hands wide in invitation. Will immediately plops down in his spouse’s lap. Hannibal is about to wrap his arms around Will, but the younger man stops him with a hand on Hannibal's chest. “Wait.” Will says.   
  
Hannibal waits patiently as Will leans over the armrest and grabs his cup of tea from the side table. He gets comfortable in Hannibal’s lap, knees drawn up and right shoulder pressed to Hannibal's left pec. Faces close. "Go ahead.” He says, smiling at the older man.  
  
Hannibal immediately wraps his arms and the blanket around Will’s middle, careful not to jostle the cup of tea.  
  
“Tell me about your day.” Hannibal says.  
  
They end up sharing the cup of tea as they converse. Occasionally pressing their temples together, Will’s right hand sneaking around Hannibal's lower back at one point.  
  
They stay like that close to an hour, before calling it a night.

**Author's Note:**

> so, there will be more chapters, but I don't know how to add the "?" without publishing chapter 2. so that's why it says "1/1"


End file.
